Little girl in white dress
by Dea Artio
Summary: A little girl in white dress and her best friend, when moving from the game to the horror. Or Bellatrix Lestrange's wedding. Beware: rape !
**Characters are J.K.R. property, but that is my original text, translated from french by my dear friend Baaldr**

Little Girl in white dress

Little girl, in your white dress, you spin in front of the mirror.

Your powdered face seems paler than usual, framed by these heavy black braids. You have red lips; black eyes, long cilia and your heart full of hopes… Rabastan finds you pathetic and you laugh in his face in response. He is good looking too, in his grey dress, he has the beauty of an angel. Your mothers left to arrange something in the kitchens, and now you're all alone in the room, doing grimaces before laughing, you're eighteen years old. Rabastan looks younger, he is bony, like Regulus. You are beautiful, beautiful like a little girl in white dress, ready to become wife. Rab' approached and you drew back, playful, naïve. Suddenly, he dumped you to the wall, and in the mess of tissues you're now jailed in, you can't fight back, poor thing. He took your lips, you bite his tongue, but it didn't' help. Rab' caught your hips, he unraveled your skirts and wanted to take off your stockings, you hit him. You're frightened, you don't want it, you don't want to play anymore, and it's not funny… _YOU WANT TO STOP!_

He continues nonetheless. And when your crotch was revealed to him, he plunged his hand in it. It was a strange feeling, not really painful, and you stopped to struggle. His long fingers caress se treasure you kept that strongly, he pushed them in it and pressed on certain parties, as he would play to a really precise instrument. You moan lightly, it feels very good, you even regret to have hit poor Rab'.

Then he lifted his grey dress and dropped his boxer. Your eyes are closed, you didn't realized it at first. But his fingers weren't soft anymore and reached deeper in you, it started to hurt a bit, you tried to protest softly. Rab' pulled your legs and your skirts apart. You didn't know what to do, whether you try to struggle or play blindness. As you opposed no resistance, he loosen his grip and smiled. You love is smile, the one that told you that we are just playing, that nothing is really serious. It was not a finger that harshly entered in you this moment, it was something rock hard and painful. You screamed.

"No Rab' ! Rab' stop that, it hurts! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!"

You are crying now, the pain is terrible, more than the first time your father gave you a slap because you were crying in public. It's horrible. All of a sudden, something broke in you. You felt it, something broke. As if you were torn apart. And he continued, while grunting like a beast. You can't get to fight him off. He scratched your back, and foolishly, you think it will damage your dress. He bites you and you didn't even cared. The only thing bothering you at this moment was the viscous things. It disgusted you. And the pain which gave you the feeling to be broken, poor little girl.

He released you and put back his grey dress in place, and left you here, abandoned like an old toy he don't want anymore. And you cry. You're dirty. You don't know why, but you feel dirty. You foolishly watch the state of your dress, some snags have been made on your hips and your back, but it didn't bothered you that badly. What bothered you the most, was the red spot on the front of your dress, a ruby red spot.

You're now draped in a white dress, little girl, an illusion white dress. Stitched from white strings, did you knew it? Lies are the only things keeping these rags in a beautiful dress. And you know it, you, that behind this illusion, there is a blood spot, red of life, red of death, red of the world. It's your blood that is rolling over this vaporous lie, symbol of purity. Do you feel pure, little girl? Yes? You lie so well. You aren't pure, you're abject. You gave yourself to Rab' the day of your marriage with his brother. Even Rab' is disgusted by your actions, he didn't gave you a single look since the beginning of the ceremony, too bothered to discuss with Narcissa, and smile at her.

Little girl in your white dress, you're drowning in a pond of blood. You're dirty, you are dirty Bellatrix, and they will pay for this, for what happened to you. Who? Everyone, everyone who, like your, are dirty. Everyone who're not pure anymore.

Soon, little girl, it's in a sea of blood you will drown, and the corps of Rabastan will float on this sea. You swear it.


End file.
